The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 87
THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) – chapter 87
She contemplated the pile of clothes before her and then lowered her gaze toward her legs, which were wrapped in the hem of her skirt.
She had awakened early that morning, her nanny had helped her bathe, and a healer had gone to place the bandages on her again. There was no way she would allow them to see her scars.
Talia bit her lip and then nodded.
—Do as you see fit.
With her permission, the maids placed a screen in the middle of the room. Talia stood behind it like a cow guided to the slaughterhouse. A young maid approached her, removed her thin robe, and unbuttoned her summer dress one by one. Soon, the puffy dress that had been wrapped around her body slid down.
Talia noticed that the maid had suddenly held her breath and, by reflex, looked down at her petticoat. The outline of her deformed leg was slightly visible through the thin fabric. Feeling her ears burning with humiliation, she snapped at the maid:
—Don’t just stand there staring, hurry up and finish with this!
The maid, who had frozen, hurried to bring the garments. Unable to bear seeing her clumsy movements, the head maid pushed the girl aside and helped Talia put on the milky-white silk dress herself.
The thin fabric, delicately pleated, flowed down her body like mist. The head maid placed a semi-transparent blue-gray outer cloak over her and then fastened a sash on her waist embroidered with elaborate patterns.
The sash, woven with two layers of silk, was adorned with jade, topaz, and small ornaments in the shapes of animals. After tightening it snugly to accentuate her waist, the maid placed colored cords adorned with metal bells and tassels over her hips.
The adornment did not end there. Several jewels strung on a fine gold thread overlapped around her neck and wrists, and large earrings engraved with golden bird motifs hung from her earlobes.
She felt as if she had been transformed into a jewelry counter. Was such an extravagant outfit really the traditional attire of the East? Just as she frowned with doubt, the maid who had been helping her put on a dark blue silk coat with wide sleeves let out a sigh that sounded like an exclamation.
—You look exactly like the Tiramer of legend.
—Tiramer?
When Talia frowned at the unfamiliar word, the maid covered her mouth with a pale and astonished expression. Her suspicious reaction dampened her spirit. Was she treating her like a fool?
Perhaps she was mocking her, taking advantage of her ignorance.
She asked her back, as if pressing into the matter:
—What is that? Why did you stop mid-sentence?
—Tiramer is…
—Tiramer is the spirit of the earth that rules the seasons.
The head maid crossed the front of her silk cloak diagonally over her chest and secured the flowing hem with a brooch as she spoke.
—The ancient Easterners believed themselves to be descendants of Tiramer. She is considered the most beautiful and noble of all the spirits of this land.
Talia looked at the serene face of the head maid with a suspicious gaze.
—Then just say it and that’s it. Why do you turn pale?
—It seems Breeze feared that Your Highness might misunderstand and think that we truly believe in that legend.
The head maid, who had arranged the front of her coat so that it fell naturally, straightened her posture and replied:
—The story of Tiramer is simply an ancient oral legend. I hope Your Highness does delayed doubt our faith.
Talia stared at the stern face of the head maid. A slight tension floated over her elongated and severe features. She had no way of knowing if this was a performance to deceive her or if it was born from the fear of being branded a heretic.
She turned her head to look at the mirror she had been avoiding all along. On its smooth surface, wrapped in a deep shadow, a face was reflected that bore an uncanny resemblance to her mother’s.
However, instead of the explosive vitality that Senevere possessed, a gloomy and ashen shadow was cast over that exquisite face. Hungry eyes, as if starved for something, a haggard face, a wretched body far inferior to the sensual and perfectly proportioned physique of Senevere…
Suddenly, Gareth’s mocking voice echoed in her ears:
“The face of a woman on the body of a monster…”
The face, which seemed to be a clumsy imitation of her mother’s, contorted horribly. It was agonizing to contemplate her own figure, ruined and left halfway.
She turned around abruptly.
—If you are already finished, get out of my way! How long are you going to keep playing around with that?
When she brushed away somewhat roughly the hands that were combing her hair, the maid behind her startled and took a step back.
The head maid let out a small sigh.
—I will place the crown on your head. Please endure it just a little longer.
A maid who had been waiting immediately brought a gold crown. The head maid placed it on Talia’s head, then gathered her long hair into a bun and secured it with a jade ornament.
When all the preparations were finally ready, the maids took a step back and made a respectful bow.
—Now we will escort you to the quarters of His Highness the Grand Duke.
The head maid said as she walked toward the door. Talia observed her for a moment with a look of anxiety in her eyes and then followed her.
Dozens of soldiers waited in the hallway. As she advanced cautiously among them, the sound of her limp echoed in the place.
She tried by all means to walk in the most natural way possible, but her stiff leg, as always, betrayed her will.
She kept her head high, trying not to let her embarrassment show.
After walking for what felt like a good while, the head maid stopped.
—This is the room.
She said, pointing to the large door that was in front of the staircase.
It seemed that the Grand Duke’s quarters were located on the same floor. Relieved not to have to climb the stairs, Talia approached the large mahogany door.
—We have brought Her Highness the Princess.
As the head maid announced in a respectful tone, a solemn voice came from inside the room:
—Come in.
The head maid obeyed the order immediately. As soon as the maids opened the doors wide from both sides simultaneously, a spacious room filled with courtiers was revealed.
Talia tensed upon meeting the gaze of dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on her. Those well-dressed men looked at her with expressions that seemed shocked by something.
Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine.
Perhaps there was something wrong with her appearance. She examined her outfit. Perhaps they had dressed her just any way only to make her a laughingstock. Perhaps they had deceived her with the lie that it was the traditional attire of the East, only to dress her like a clown.
She looked at the head maid as if she were about to tear her face apart. Then, suddenly, she wondered if her legs were showing through the hem of her dress, and quickly looked down again.
Nothing was visible except the voluminous pleated skirt. But from the front, the distorted shape of her legs might be visible.
A cold sweat ran down her spine. Talia moved her eyes from side to side, and her expression betrayed a desperate desire to flee at any moment.
Just at that instant, heavy footsteps echoed in the room. Startled, Talia raised her head sharply and looked with wide eyes at Varkas, who had already approached her.
He too was dressed in a similar style. A black silk robe with a subtle sheen, a belt adorned with intricate gold embroidery, and a wide cloak draped diagonally flowed gracefully along the contours of his robust build.
Talia, who had been looking at him as if bewitched, felt warm fingers touch the tip of her chin and raised her gaze.
Large earrings set with blue gems and a necklace from which clusters of topazes hung shone in the sunlight.
In that instant, her heart shrank.
It was the first time she saw him adorned with so many jewels. Was he not the man who dressed more ascetically than any priest?
The lavishly adorned Varkas looked less like a knight of the Roem Empire and more like the ruler of an ancient barbarian tribe.
—Do your legs hurt, by any chance?
Varkas, who had been staring at her, asked in a heavy and low tone.
Talia, who had barely regained her composure, pushed his hand away from her and took a step back. She felt as if the violent pounding of her heart was going to reach his ears.
—Ah, I’m fine.
She tried by all means to feign calmness, but her cheeks burned as if they were on fire. His blue eyes settled on her flushed face.
Varkas frowned and touched her forehead.
—You are having a fever again…
—I told you I’m fine!
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